 Winner - The Regal Spectre
Having two workaholics for parents, it was a relief that they had finally agreed to a holiday. We were travelling to Manali for a week at a home-stay that was once owned by a regal British family.
We settled down immediately. My parents promptly fell asleep, as is the custom with all bored adults. I however, was in the mood to check out the house.
The kitchen was dull and brown, but neatly kept. A lady who looked quite unlike a housemaid, in her red velvet dress and golden necklace, was cooking stew on the stove. She smiled at me and showed me around the dining room, living room, bathrooms and finally, the storeroom.
As she turned the brass knob of the storeroom, I glanced at her hand. Though adorned with delicate bangles, her hand was shrivelled and you could practically see her bones. Her customary smile was starting to creep me out by now.
I entered the room and the lock clicked shut. She wasn’t in the room with me! The lights went out. The stillness of the night accentuated the sound of the creaky floorboards; the silver moon illuminated the cobwebs that laced the dingy corners.
I banged on the door and yelled, but to no avail. I sat down on the dusty floor and a cold drop trickled spookily down my back … a musty smell loomed in the air.
After about 20 minutes of hell in that room - a perfect setting for a horror movie - I realised I had my mobile in my pocket. I called and left about 25 messages, but my parents were evidently still asleep.
After another hour, they came and ‘rescued’ me. I ran out in glee and told them the whole story. We decided to investigate the house together after that.
They showed me their bedroom - the master bedroom. On the wall was a portrait of a lady. She had been the owner of the house, a member of a Russian royal family who had been murdered by her Indian housemaid, the cook informed us. She wore a red velvet dress, a golden necklace and her slender wrists were adorned with delicate bangles.
She was the same lady.
Rishaya Palkhivala (14)
Runner-Up - Mirror, Mirror
How many time have you looked in a mirror? Lots, I bet. It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken of this and I used to feel I would never need to, but everyone loves a mirror, so I’m going to tell you a story … it pays to be beautiful.
We’d been flooded out, so we decided to move. Mum bought a house cheap off the Internet. It was described as ‘Dazzlingly beautiful, set in a picturesque village’. From what I remember, it was a cold, deserted mansion, next to a boarded-up corner shop. I moved in with my mum and sister, Jenny.
They were both incredibly vain. There was only one mirror in the house, next to my bedroom. Mum and Jenny often fought over it. Funny … but it gave me the creeps!
One day, as I passed it, I saw something move, sending my heartbeat racing. I whipped around. No one was there. I finally shrugged it off as my imagination.
A week later, Jenny had been murdered. Her hand that had held the hairbrush had been hacked off. As had her head.
I glimpsed the thing in the mirror again a few times. A manifestation with a cold, callous purpose.
Mum died a month later in identical circumstances. I knew what I had to do … I smashed the mirror!
Sixty years later, I still see it in every mirror. A manifestation with a cold, callous purpose.
You know … it pays to be beautiful?
Catriona Bone (12)
Runner-Up - Gothic Story
I ran. I ran as fast as I possibly could, to try and get away from the black, eerie figure that was hunting me down. I swooped around corners, not stopping for breath, taking quick glances behind me as I sprinted. The dark silhouette scurried behind, letting no objects touch it in its passing.
My breathing began to get heavier. My lungs started to tighten in a vice-like grip. My legs started to slow down and quickly turn to jelly. I couldn’t stop now; I was nearly home! I could hear the shadow-like creature behind me panting, panting so hard it almost sounded unreal. Inhuman. Unnatural.
The street lights flickered out in complete unison and the moon shone like it had never shone before, reflecting each and every inch of the creature’s body, but not face.
As I ran, the wall emphasised our shadows, leaving its, his or hers, much larger than mine. Oh, how much my stomach cramped as my heart started to pound. Who knows what this ‘thing’ was or what it was going to do to me.
Finally, I approached my house, still hearing heavy footsteps behind me. I reached for my keys, with my hand shaking like a leaf and attempted to open the front door. The panting and footsteps got louder and louder, concluding with them getting closer, but still the mortise lock just wouldn’t budge! I anxiously banged on the door, but no reply. I froze. I felt warm air tickle my ear, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end …
After that, who knows what happened? The next thing, I opened my eyes to find two nurses ready to take my blood. A million and one things ran through my head that night and I’m oblivious to what happened, but I do know one thing … this wasn’t the last time I would encounter this creature …
Sophie Gaudie (14)
Chesterfield High School, Crosby |
